


The World Tried to Burn All the Mercy Out of Me

by BleatingGoat (Nat20), Nat20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Depression, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco is very soft and is trying to not be an asshole, Draco runs the family business, Emerges self in muggle world to try and appreciate them and muggle-borns more, Emotional Support Animal (Marsh), Eventual Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Eventual Romance, Eventual having Scorpius as a child, Eventual marriage, F/F, F/M, Former Enemies to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, He is going through therapy to help, Hermione Granger is the Minister of Magic, Hermione gives Draco a chance to be a good person, It's been hunted down and cut up for choice parts, It's my story I can do what I want, Lucius Malfoy is Dead, Luna Lovegood teaches Art and Ghoul Studies, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Mental Health Issues, Minor Original Character(s), Narcissa is a good mother, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Pet Project Story, Professional Quidditch, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Rating subject to change, Recovery, Ros Weasley teaches Flying and Quidditch, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, The Malfoy Apothecary, Therapy, Working hard to change his behavior, and doesn't question his attempts to change, canon is dead to me, it's wholesome and soft, nervous wreck, soft, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat20/pseuds/BleatingGoat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat20/pseuds/Nat20
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been attending therapy for about a year. His therapist gives him an assignment to apologize to those that he has wronged in the past. Not in person right away, but to do so on paper or in his head. Yet a chance run in with Hermione Granger, the Minister of Magic, turns that plan on its head. A blessing or a curse? Only time can tell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking to a dear friend about this ship and now I wrote them a fic that I hope to update regularly. And by regularly I mean either every few weeks or once a month. I hope to find a good posting schedule eventually. We'll see. Anyway, enjoy.
> 
> Also in the story, Draco has a cellphone to take pictures of his cat with and has used a computer at a local library. It's anywhere between 2005-2010. I don't know. You decide.

The office smelled like warm vanilla and lavender, cool air circulating the room which offered just enough chill that his jacket provided a comfortable warmth. Despite the gentle and mild colors of the room, the soft chair he sat in, and the scents wafting through the air from various charms mixed with the smell of candles, he couldn't relax his heart. He felt the blood pumping through his veins and noticed how sweaty his palms were. This safe and welcoming place where nothing could hurt him still filled him with a rough anxiety. He had been in this room every week at the same time on the same day for the past several months. He had wanted to skip some sessions, avoid this entire mess and do something else. But he came time after time. Sometimes late. Sometimes early. But he came.

The first session had been simple. He talked about himself a little bit. His childhood, hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes, his school years. Everything. She wanted to know all about him. The next session he had confessed that he moved out from his family's manor. His mother was still there, but Draco had decided he needed to get away from everything that reminded him of his father. He didn't visits when his father was there, but once the man had passed away Draco was more open to seeing his aging mother. Now, he lived in a simple muggle neighborhood on the outskirts of London. A small, connected home with a tiny backyard. Just enough space for some grass and a bird feeder and bird bath. An attempt to fix himself, he had confessed to Dr. Cora's gentle gaze and intent listening. An attempt to try and get over the things his father had taught him. The contempt he felt for muggles and muggle-borns. The feelings of clear superiority as a pure-blooded wizard. Magic had a place in his home but he tried to avoid it unless it was necessary. He wanted to experience the muggle life. To appreciate it. It was so hard, however.

A few sessions later Draco had excitedly told Dr. Cora of his current plans. He had gone to a muggle library and borrowed one of their computers, learning how to use the device for the first time. He had researched cats. Specifically how to care for them. Food, shelter, toys, grooming, veterinary visits. Dr. Cora had asked if he planned to get a cat at Diagon Alley. Draco had happily said no. He had found a humane society in London on the internet and he spent a long time looking through the cats they had up for adoption. He found one. A Japanese bobtail, he explained. She was mostly white with specks of black and tan along her coat, her face covered in dots and splotches of color. Her name was Marsh. He was going to keep that name. She was spayed and already three years old. Dr. Cora supported him with excitement. She wanted to know how the adoption went and how Marsh liked her new home.

The cat ended up loving Draco's home and loved him.

Draco talked about her for the next few sessions, proudly saying that she got him up every day before nine in the morning to feed her. And he didn't even go back to sleep most days. He stayed up to play with her and read books while she slept on his lap. He had even returned to work at his family's apothecary in Diagon Alley. This was good news, according to Dr. Cora. Draco had successfully completed one of his homework assignments. He had been doing really, really well.

Until the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

That session was rough. He recalled the events with bitter words and a racing heart. Memories of what had happened during that time and how horrible he felt. His family's actions and siding with the Dark Lord left a bitter taste on his tongue. He knew he couldn't be like them, like his father, at that moment. So many thoughts of what life could have been like had he not been an asshole to everyone. A monster. That's how he saw himself. Someone that was unworthy of forgiveness for what he did, despite his family's crimes being forgiven once they denounced their loyalty to the Dark Lord. Draco had felt lied to by his family, his entire world crashing down around him during those last years of his education. He had a falling out with his mother and father. Yet, he tried to reconnect with his mother when he had a chance, slowly rebuilding a lasting relationship with her. His father was another story. Draco's mother ensured her son inherited the family company and fortune at his father's death, but it was a fight. Everything had to be a fight with that man.

When the next session came, Draco had expanded on how he felt about his past actions. He wanted to be someone different. Someone people could come to for help, but he felt as if he had ruined whatever chance he had when he was young. He was an enemy of everyone. The Malfoy name too deep in the mud to pull out. He didn't know if he should bury the name and suffer or try to reclaim it from its gruesome fate. Dr. Cora never cast judgment to him. She never did. No matter what he had said.

Draco had convinced himself that she was waiting to tell him off, to kick him out of her office. He swore today was the day as he finished recounting all the awful things he did in school. How he acted. How spoiled and bratty he was. How cruel he had become and how he treated good people like they were dirt. He had stopped talking only a moment ago, his mouth already dry and barren of words. A desert built in his throat from the sand of regret that was slowly suffocating him. His mind prepared to accept his fault and pathetic attempts to get better. It had been difficult to wake up that morning and feed Marsh. But she was insistent. He had gotten up thirty minutes late and arrived to his appointment ten minutes past the hour. He was ready. He had thought about how he would hang his head in shame and leave, replaying the event that would happen in his head over and over. Impending failure.

Dr. Cora finished scratching on her notepad and looked up at him. Her eyes were piercing.

“Listen,” she said after a few moments of contemplation, “your dad was a dick and raised you to be a dick, too. That's not your fault.”

Draco stared at her. “But, I-”

“No. Nope. Nah-uh. Not your fault. You can't help the fact that someone as horrible as that raised you. I'm sorry, but it's true. He abused you and your mother. Emotionally and mentally. Made you a mouthpiece for his own vile views. That isn't you. That's him.”

“But I could have been better, Dr. Cora. I could have tried to be different.” His voice cracked as he spoke, too dry to focus. He coughed, tears welling up in his eyes either from emotion or the pain radiating through his neck. Dr. Cora reached for a tissue and handed it to him without second thought.

“And suffer what consequences? Your father abandoning you? Casting you out as a young boy? Facing horrible punishment when you got home? Gods forbid using some sort of dark magic on you to change you?” She shook her head. “You did what you had to do to survive, if you realize it or not. You are not what your father made you to be. You are _you_. Is your name Lucius?”

“No,” he muttered out, dabbing his eyes. He was trying not to cry. He really was. But Dr. Cora had an air about her. Not like a mother, but like an older sister ready to fight whoever hurt him. Her presence was something solid to hold onto, her soft but firm voice filling his head with something slightly comforting.

“That's right. Your name is Draco. That's who you are. You are Draco. _You_ make your own decisions and your own choices, right?”

“I guess.”

“No. No more guessing. Do you control what you do?”

He thought about what she was asking him for a moment, staring at the decorative carpet. “Um, yeah? I think.”

“That's right. You do. Tell me, Draco, what decisions have you made these past few months? On your own?”

“Uh.” His mind went blank. He looked up at her for help.

“You moved out of your family's home and got your own place, in a muggle area nonetheless.”

“Oh, yeah, I did that. Uh, I went back to work.”

She nodded.

He shifted in his seat, pulling at the delicate tissue in his hands. “I adopted Marsh.”

She nodded again.

“And I came to see you.”

“Good.” Her voice was slightly softer now, a smile coming to her face.

“I just, uh, I still think like my father a lot of the time. It's a reaction, almost. I hear mudbl- mh. No. Uh, muggle-born and part of me feels so disgusted with them and it makes me feel so guilty and gross. I have these thoughts about how I'm somehow better than them? But I'm not. I never was. But I can't stop these thoughts from getting into my head and it's so hard to ignore them and fight them down.”

Dr. Cora gave a small nod. “The first thought you have is what you have been raised to believe, to do. The second thought is who you are. You are actively trying to correct your thoughts everyday and yes, it's hard and scary but you are doing it. You almost said mudblood. But you didn't. That's good. That's progress. And that's something to be proud about.”

“What about the feelings of superiority? What can I do about those? I can't stop those feelings and I don't know how to stop them. I don't know.” He was looking back at the ground, a frown on his face and brow furrowed to a deep crease.

“Draco,” she said with that firm but soft tone. He looked back up at her, feeling his eyes prickle with tears again. “It's easy to fall back into that line of thinking because you got used to it. You are trying to retrain your mind to do something else. It's not like casting any sort of spell. There is no easy fix. And it's hard work. But you are still trying. You came in today. That's strong. You are working towards becoming a better person. That's strong, too.”

“I guess.”

Silence spread between them. Draco didn't know what else to say. He had already apologized for being late and confessed that getting up that morning was difficult. He wasn't going to work today. It wasn't like he could get fired. It was his company. But he didn't feel like he could face his employees or deal with Diagon Alley. Some of the looks and sneers. He accepted them all without a fight. Dr. Cora had gotten onto him about that. No matter what he still deserved respect from everyone, including himself. He didn't know how to demand it without being seen as that rich snobby son whose family fought along side Voldemort. He didn't know how to say he was trying to get better without revealing aspects of himself no one else needed to know beyond this room.

“Why did you come to see me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why me? There are plenty of pure-blood psychologist that have taken an interest in muggle mental health practices. So, why me? I am a muggle-born. You even asked that on our first meeting. So, why?”

He thought about it. “I guess I felt that if I tried to work through my problems with a muggle-born that I could get over some of these thoughts I have. I just wanted to put myself in a place where I felt I could get better. Out of my comfort zone. Like my new home. And with Marsh.”

Dr. Cora scratched something else onto her notepad before looking back up at Draco with a small sigh. “I have an assignment for you, and it's a hard one. You don't have to get it done right away, but I want you to think about it. Alright?”

“Um, okay?”

She put her notepad on her desk and took off her glasses, looking at him fully. “I want you to think about reaching out to those you hurt in school. Not just anyone, but those that seem to cause a lot of guilt when you think about your past actions. I want you to think about what you would say if you were to reach out and apologize to them.”

“They would hate me. They do hate me.”

“You don't have to actually do this. Not yet. But think about it for me. Write a letter to someone and never send it. Go over the apology in your head. That's all.”

He had finally destroyed the tissue, holding it's torn bits in his hands. “I can try.”

“Just remember that this process is not about seeking forgiveness or acceptance from those that you wronged. This is about forgiving yourself. And this might be a good place to start. Don't let people from your past rule your emotions. Just come to terms with how you feel and try to apologize to those thoughts, those people in your mind, and then apologize to yourself.”

“What if,” he began, thinking about his next words, “what if I actually did apologize to a few? In person? Or, through an email or letter?”

“Then that is your choice. Just remember what we talked about with your anxiety if you pursue that path. Think about the worst, best, and most likely scenario. Breath deeply and relax your shoulders and jaw. You may have anxiety or you may not. It depends.” She glanced at the clock and frowned. “I'm afraid that's all the time we have.”

“That's alright. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Of course.” Dr. Cora stood up and smiled, patting Draco on the shoulder as he rose from his seat. She gave a quick wave of her wand and dismissed the protective anti-eavesdropping spells around her office. The lock clicked and the door opened slowly. She walked with Draco outside, the air already becoming cool with the promise of an early autumn. How time flies.

“Same time next week?” he asked with a softer voice now that he was outside, out of the protective nature of her office. She gave a nod and a softer smile. They were standing on the street, outside her office building. In a muggle area, but still hidden well enough from their eyes. She went back inside, the door vanishing from sight in almost an instant, leaving Draco alone on the street with people passing by him, none-the-wiser. He took in a deep breath and started his journey home.

He grabbed some take out on the way, not quite feeling prepared to make his own dinner. Marsh's hand-made meals took enough time as it was. Instead, he would prefer to feed his cat, eat in peace, and then sleep. Take the rest of the day to try and focus his thoughts and think about his assignment. It seemed easy enough. Create an apology in his mind but not say it out loud yet. But, somehow, that was so difficult. Compared to worrying about it right now, after all the stress from today's session, he let his mind go to a blissful sort of quiet. His subconscious working through his problems for him as he focused on getting his food, getting home, feeding his cat, eating, and going to bed. It was all he could focus on, trying to decide if he could put up with work tomorrow. One thing at a time. He had learned that the hard way.

The moment he put his key in the lock did he realize he was home. He blinked a few times, trying to come back to reality and out of his own thoughts. With a deep breath and a sigh, he entered his home, shutting and locking the door behind him. A shrill, happy meow greeted him as Marsh trotted over, rubbing against his legs with a loud and rattling purr. He smiled down at her, eyes softening as she looked up at him and meowed again.

“Hiya, Marshy, did you miss me?”

Marsh meowed again. With a chuckle, Draco moved to the kitchen, putting his to-go parcel on the counter and taking out what he needed to make Marsh's dinner. She jumped up onto her window sill above the sink, purring while she watched him. The recipe had come straight from his vet. He wasn't sure about any dry or wet cat foods from the store and was suspicious of everything in them. But he had started to mix higher quality brands with the homemade food, slowly transitioning Marsh from one type to another. The vet had expressed concern at Draco's willingness to try a homemade diet. But they worked together to get something that would work. Something safe for Marsh, to keep her healthy, but Draco knew the vet got to him. He would move over to brand food. But only the best on the market, he had made clear. While he was willing to eat greasy take out from a cheap restaurant, Marsh would get only the best. She deserved it.

Once he was done, he mixed her homemade and regular food together, placing it on the window sill. She chomped away while he watched for a minute, staring the hot water in the sink to wash his tools and counter. There was no dishwasher. He instead replaced it with a clothes washer and dryer in the nook. Hand washing was good meditation, he had discovered. It was relaxing. It was even more relaxing when he was staring out the window, watching the birds enjoy the commodities he had placed outside, listening to Marsh chirp at them curiously once her bowl was licked clean.

As soon as the sink was rinsed, Draco took his meal and ate in silence, reading over one of his old school books. Marsh laid in his lap, politely not reaching for his food. She knew better. He had a stern talk with her about it. Of course, she didn't listen, but after her belly was full he found her easier to deal with while he satisfied his hunger. During the meal, his thoughts kept traveling back to his newest assignment. It soured his stomach from nerves, but he pushed through. He hadn't eaten breakfast that day and he was required to eat one meal a day for another assignment he had. He was going to try. Damn it, he was going to try his best.

Tomorrow, he agreed with himself. Tomorrow he would think about what he would say to everyone that he wronged. But not anymore today. He deserved a moment of rest. Just a moment.

–

Diagon Alley was crowded, as usual. The new school year at Hogwarts was going to begin next week. Draco looked upon the event fondly as he made his way through the marketplace. The Malfoy Apothecary was doing well. Although, Draco had considered changing the name. The business was now under his control and no one would judge him without threatening their potential income from the business. He cleaned up the company's act, treated the employees better than his father, increased their stock and lowered prices on some items. They even started carrying some school supplies in recent years. Just to get some more business during the before-school rush.

A few curious looks were cast in Draco's direction. He was not wearing any robes or silks associated with wizards of his status. Instead, he wore casual blue jeans torn at the bottom and a loose T-shirt with a light hoodie. The autumn air wasn't cool enough yet, the season just getting a move on. Perfect timing, he thought happily to himself. The school grounds would be beautiful this time of year. The students were so lucky. The thoughts distracted from the odd looks, but he wasn't going to let the glances get to him. Dr. Cora was clear about Draco having agency over how he felt. He wasn't going to let anyone change his good mood. The day was going great so far.

Or, it was.

Draco had been looking for a certain alleyway. There were stray cats there. It was a hobby now, almost. Finding stray cats, feeding them, earning their trust, and getting them to a safe and no-kill animal shelter or finding them new homes himself. Places where they would be safe and happy. Anywhere but the streets. Some witches and wizards would kill for a new test subject on some spells and Draco would be damned if someone hurt poor, innocent cats for their nefarious purposes. That was why he was distracted and not watching where he was going, having grown so used to people avoiding him and getting out of his way. Either out of respect, disgust, or fear. He didn't know half the time. So when he clashed with someone else, hearing the familiar fall and scattering of papers, he instantly dropped to his knees and gathered the items up while nerves began to well into him.

“I am so sorry,” he with shaking words while he collected the documents. “I wasn't paying attention.”

“It's fine, I-” the voice stopped suddenly and he looked up, meeting the gaze of one Minister of Magic. Hermione Granger. “Draco? Draco Malfoy?”

“Uh-” his mind flat lined. His heart racing too fast. He felt nervousness well up in his throat and he focused instead on gathering the papers, straightening them out before offering them out to Hermione. His mind tried to form words, so many things he knew he wanted to say but not knowing how. He hadn't even had time to think about it yet. About his assignment. “Sorry... for everything.”

He stood up and offered a hand. Hermione took it and raised up, brushing her still wild and curly hair out of her face. Draco offered a weak smile, knowing he had a panicked look about himself, flustered and worried and scared. He opened his mouth to speak and felt nothing come out.

He tried again.

“Um.... I need to.... yeah. Okay.” He turned on his heels and booked it through the crowd, ignoring his name being called behind him. He raised his hood over his head and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, weaving through the crowd until he was back in the Malfoy Apothecary. Several customers looked up at his sudden entrance, offering confused greetings as he made his way straight to the back and to a small nook he had made the office.

The old office had become the break room. He outfitted it with a microwave. A true wonder of technology that thing. He encouraged everyone to use it and the coffee machine. The old break room was now home to a tiny desk shoved against the wall and an uncomfortable and ancient office chair that had been rescued from the street along with several filing cabinets. Not magical. Just regular muggle filing cabinets. Another effort to change his mind about muggles and their devices. Maybe, he always thought, if he respected muggles he could find new respect for muggle-borns. A sound argument.

With hands shaking, he went through the filing cabinets. He kept small bags of cat food and decorative bowels for his cat rescuing project. He wanted to help them because Marsh helped him. A cat didn't judge him for who he was and he could help them in small ways. Maybe these strays could help someone else. Give them a sense of purpose and a reason to wake up in the morning. Marsh gave that to him. A second chance to be a good person and she loved him. She played with all the toys he got, she slept next to him every night on the pillow just for her. She yowled when he took a shower and it made him feel like she missed him. He was her world and he had to provide for her. And those stray cats needed someone to help them too. And in return, they could give their love and affection to someone that really needed it.

The only problem is that he couldn't find the cat food. He finally searched the bottom drawer and found the small bags and bowls. A deep sigh escaped him as he gathered up some of the items. There were about three cats. He could give them something and work on getting their trust. Sure, some of the cats hated him after trapping them, but he knew they had better lives after. He tracked their adoption progress and sometimes contacted the adopted families to see how the cat was doing. He only got told to fuck off once. But after that, he got another call from a young lady that thanked him for worrying about the cat and apologizing her her husband's awful behavior. He understood, though. A random stranger worried about a cat. He couldn't blame the guy.

A soft knock at the door startled him from his thoughts. He took in several deep breaths and tried to relax his shoulders and neck and jaw. He breathed deeply until letting out a calmed breath in a thin line of air through pursed lips.

“Yeah?” his voice had a noticeable shake but his staff had gotten used to it. He had filled them in only on as much as they needed to know. Sometimes he didn't have great days and that was alright. He was trying his best and he appreciated their patience.

“You have a visitor.” It was one of the new workers. A nice lady. She worked hard. She was respectful. She helped Draco clean the place at closing.

“Can you tell them not right now, please? To come back later?”

“Um, I don't think I can.”

His heart dropped and he chewed his bottom lip. He picked up the cat food and bowls and shut the drawer with his foot. Carefully, he set the items on his desk and took in another breath. “Show them in.”

The door opened and he saw Hermione enter the room, looking flustered and confused and curious all at the same time. Her freckles had never faded. She was dressed in a nice dress suit with a large trench coat over her shoulders. Her wand was set in a small holder on her side, ready to be drawn for battle. Not bothering to hide it. She didn't have a reason to. Yet her posture was something that made Draco withdraw slightly and sink into his office chair, picking obsessively at his nails. He didn't make eye contact, not thinking he could handle it at the moment. Memories of what he had said to her flooded him and he knew she remembered everything. How could she forget? How could he forget? He had to go to the infirmary after one incident for crying out loud.

“You know,” Hermione said, her eyes boring into him. He didn't have to see it to know. He felt the burn. “I never actually heard you say sorry before. I wanted to come make sure you haven't lost your mind.”

Draco let out a breathy laugh but there was no power behind it. “Yeah, um. Must be coming down with something.”

“Why the cat food?”

“Oh. Uh,” Draco mumbled, glancing at the cat food and the pink and blue polka dot cat bowls littering his desk, “I feed the local strays until I can get them to a humane shelter. So, they can get adopted.” He gulped. He couldn't lie. He shouldn't. The truth was easier to remember. “I ran into you because I was counting the strays in the alley I saw. I'm sorry.”

He risked looking up at her, finding no judgment on her face. Just surprise. She stood there with her hands on her hips, her satchel now firmly closed and buckled to prevent her papers from falling out again. What she was even doing here in Diagon was lost on Draco but it wasn't his business. She could do what she wanted. She was the Minister. The strongest and brightest witch in the world. Draco didn't doubt that.

“That's rather kind of you.” She came a little closer, looking over the food. “That's some pretty good stuff. Do you have a cat?”

“Yeah!” He felt some of the nerves vanish as he reached into his pocket and fished out his cell phone. He unlocked it and went to his gallery. Every single picture was of Marsh. Sleeping, eating, playing, some videos of her meowing at him. He handed the phone over without hesitation. Hermione would know how to use it. She grew up in the muggle world. Muggle technology was no stranger to her. “That's Marsh, a Japanese bobtail. I got her about a year ago from the Humane Society London.”

He found himself rambling on and on about Marsh, talking about her favorite foods and where she likes to eat, how picky she is about what times she eats and about her favorite toys. How she liked to sleep with him every night, sometimes laying on his feet or on the pillow beside his head. Also about how she much preferred to lay on books he had left out in sunny spots. He even told Hermione about how he taught Marsh to give a high five for some treats. After several minutes he shut his mouth. Feeling his chest clench a little and a wave of guilt wash over him.

“Sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to ramble. Um...” he looked around, finding nothing he could change the conversation with. He took his phone back when Hermione held it out to him, shoving it in his pocket and wishing he could just disappear She was the Minister of Magic and probably didn't care about his cat. He chewed the inside of his lip, brain trying to work a mile per minute but finding someone had locked it's tires.

Hermione's voice broke him out of the panic with soft words, practiced as if she was giving a press conference.

“You said 'sorry for everything'. Care to explain?” She was giving him a patient look, hands no longer on her hips and instead her fingers tips resting lightly on his desk. Draco met her gaze before focusing on her nose instead. He wet his lips and took in a deep breath.

“Um... I'm just sorry. For everything. For the things I said and did at Hogwarts. For calling you a mudb- no. A muggle-born so often. I'm sorry for just being awful. To you and Harry and Ron and everyone. There's no excuse for how I acted and I'm sorry. I really am. I don't expect you to forgive me or anything like that but I think... I think it's time I said it. I think I can say it now. And mean it. I'm sorry.” He met her gaze again, focusing on her eyes. “I am so sorry.”

He felt the panic settling in his stomach at everything he had said. He had hoped to have more time to think about it. To make it something elegant and deeply personal but what came out seemed to pour, desperate to do at least part of the assignment that Dr. Cora gave him. He tried to remind himself of the most likely scenario, but his mind kept expecting the worst. Hermione offered no hints into her inner emotions, her face unreadable. A practice she probably had to learn for her job. Yet, somehow, he saw her features soften a bit and a tiny smile tilt at her lips. After a few moments Hermione just gave a slow nod, seeming to comes to terms with something.

“You were pretty awful,” she said with that hint of a smile still there. “But I mean, your dad was awful, too. Remember that day at the professional quidditch game?”

Draco huffed out an exasperated laugh. “Yeah. Yeah I do.” He twiddled his thumbs, feeling slightly embarrassed that the tiny office space didn't have any other seats. Worried he was holding Hermione up from important business. He looked away from her and towards the desk, staring at the cat food and cat bowls. He wondered if the strays would still be there, how long it would take to earn their trust and get them someplace safer.

“There's a luncheon at the Ministry in a few weeks,” said Hermione with a stern and respectful tone. Draco found himself looking back up at her, listening intently. He had felt himself shrink back a bit. Right. This was the Minster of Magic. “It's for influential witches and wizards in Great Britain that would like to address certain topics of potential change to the system, discuss how we are treating our secrecy from muggles and how muggle-borns are treated in the current magical society.” She took out a piece of paper and scribbled something down with a pen on Draco's desk. Once she was done, she slid the paper and pen towards Draco with a warm, but small, smile. “You should come. That's the date, time, and meeting chamber. I'll inform those that need to know that you are invited.”

“I, um... why?” was all he could strangle out. This was confusing. For the past few years Draco had hidden himself away from most of society, trying to keep his head down in hopes people would forget what his family had done. Going to the Ministry, being up in front of people again, it would only remind them.

“Because I think you could add something meaningful to the conversation. The Malfoy family is still very powerful. Your business is still doing well according to your staff.” Hermione shrugged. “You don't have to come if it makes you uncomfortable. But I'd like to see you there.”

“Um, yeah, I'll try and make it. I'll clear my, uh, schedule. Yeah.”

With a quick jerk of her chin in acknowledgment, Hermione left the office with a wave and a brief goodbye. The moment the door closed Draco felt himself almost melt into the chair with relief, staring at the time and place on the paper, a small dress code under it. Business casual. He wondered if Hermione meant business casual for muggles or for witches and wizards. With a sigh, he tossed the paper back onto the desk and let his head fall back, eyes closing.

He was exhausted and it was only ten in the morning.

“Draco, what have you gotten yourself into?” he mumbled to no one. He was certain he was seen as pitiful to every other pure-blooded family. Someone as powerful as he was, as influential in business, giving up nearly all of it for some pathetic dream of changing. But he wanted it so bad. He wanted to be better. He wondered how life would have been had he not been horrible to so many people, if he'd have people other than his mother contact him to ensure he was alright. And his mother lived alone in the mansion. But he visited her often. His mother was so special to him. She had tried so hard to protect him and be good to him. Draco felt a spark of warmth and love for her. Yet here he was. Facing down something that he could have only had nightmares about and it was happening.

Next week.

Next week he was telling Dr. Cora about it. Maybe sooner. Maybe calling her later that afternoon to make another appointment as soon as possible. He felt anxious but too exhausted to do anything about it.

Standing up with a numb mind he slipped the paper into his pocket and gathered the cat food and bowls. He left the office, not bothering to lock it. His staff gave him worried looks but said nothing. They knew better now. Just give him some space, they had been telling each other. Let him work through it. Draco appreciated their concern. He made a note to give them a rather large holiday bonus this year. Maybe a raise. Was that too much? Was that what a good, kind person would do? Maybe. He wasn't sure. There was a lot he wasn't sure about. When was something too much? When was it not enough? Dr. Cora had warned him about becoming a doormat for others that might take advantage of him. He didn't know how to tell if that was happening or not. He had cats to feed.

Pouring out the cat food and sitting a ways away, watching the felines eat with mistrust in their eyes, he felt something in him sting for someone other than Dr. Cora to talk to. Marsh. Marsh was a good listener. She would listen and purr all the same as long as her belly was full and she had a warm lap to sleep on.

Draco closed his eyes, taking comfort in his raised hood and the chill air. He focused on his breathing. In and out. Slowly and carefully. He relaxed his shoulders and his jaw, taking notice of the tension headache starting to form. Maybe he would call it a day soon. After this. Go home and rest. Take some time to himself. Read a good book with Marsh keeping him company.

Yes. That was the plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Cora had altered her schedule slightly to fit Draco in. An appointment before the luncheon. Three days before, marking today as the third. Before this appointment, Draco buried himself in work and cleaning his house. He had gotten a haircut, something he had been meaning to do for a while, and got a new suit. A nicer one than his last. This one that was actually tailored for him. He got it at a muggle shop, liking how the suit lacked any sort of magical pockets or compartments. Simple clothing. Dr. Cora had been proud to hear that. Now, though, the appointment had taken a turn from the simple catching up since last time. They sat there in silence, Draco's anxious heartbeat reacting to every thought about the luncheon compared to today's session. That was different than before. He wasn't quite sure he liked it.

He had filled Dr. Cora in on what the luncheon was about, or as much as he was aware of. Some digging had provided Draco with a bit of information. Apparently, the luncheon was to discuss some policy changes involving muggle-borns. Knowing Hermione, such changes would be in favor of muggle-borns and making them equal to pure-bloods in the eyes of magical law. It was no secret that the most vicious of the pure-blood families despised Hermione. She had taken the election by storm and won with little competition against her pure-blood competitor, despite the corrupt election that was going on. Hermione won out against that corruption and greed. Right after, she had altered a lot of policies with little resistance. Now, that the luncheon was taking place, Draco could only wonder who else was invited. Influential individuals is what Hermione had basically said. What did that mean? Other pure-bloods?

Draco hoped not. He remembered being forced by his father to attend secret meetings among some of the most prestigious pure-blood families to discuss what to do about their “corrupt Minister who needed to be taken down a notch”. Draco didn't agree at all, but he had to sit there and suffer through it. At the time, he wasn't brave enough to confront his father and leave. Also at that time, he couldn't say he had voted for Hermione during the election. He had to lie to avoid being attacked. He had to agree with the cruel and awful things those people said during those meetings that made Draco's stomach curl. He hadn't even started therapy but he knew what he was hearing and thinking was wrong. It was at that point, he realized, his superior pure-blood facade was cracking.

His father hadn't realized that any hope of pure-bloods regaining and maintaining control over the wizarding world was like holding onto a hot coal with your bare hand. It was painful but the thought that the coal would one day not burn you held so strong no one noticed the scent of melting flesh. The anger and hate had poisoned his father and put him in an early grave. The venom strangled every last inch of life from Lucius' lungs. Sadly, the hateful creature had left behind a legacy in other pure-blood families, in his allies. Sour minds remained strong within the circle and Draco finally had enough. He left their circle of poison and filth. Letters were sent to him through his mother's home. The Avery, Greengrass and Yaxley families pleading for the Malfoy family's support in their fight against the Ministry's current ways. Eventually, the families had given up, some sending rather nasty letters calling Draco a blood-traitor and a disgrace to his family's name. He had stopped reading the letters after that, preferring to burn them in the fire and forget about them.

“So,” Dr. Cora began, tapping her pencil to her notepad, “you ran into her? Like literally?”

Draco nodded. “It was an accident but she didn't seem too mad. Invited me to the luncheon and all that.”

“Did you apologize to her? Like we talked about in the last session?”

“Yes, although I hadn't intended to do so in person yet. I, uh, wanted to wait? Gather my thoughts think about what to say.”

“How did that go?”

“Pretty well? I think? She seemed to accept it.” Draco rubbed his hands together, focusing on the carpet.

“How are you feeling about the luncheon?”

“Nervous. Very nervous. I still don't know if I'm going to go or not. I've been treating every day like I am, though.”

“Alright.” Dr. Cora tapped her pencil to her lip, her brow furrowed in that specific way that said she was thinking about something so deeply that trying to derail her train of thought was pointless. “If you feel like you can handle going to the luncheon, then go. But, if you don't want to go, send a letter politely explaining why. Saying something else came up would be good as it is not a lie. Something else did come up: your mental health. You don't have to specify. And I want to make another appointment with you, one shortly after the luncheon to see how you are doing, alright?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. I'll be good any time for an appointment. I'm not picky.”

She nodded and scribbled on her paper. “I'll contact you once I have looked at my schedule and found some potential times. Until then, you know you are always free to message me.”

They had begun to use phones outside of the session. Simple short messages whenever Draco felt like he needed some help right then and there. An incident, as Dr. Cora described it. A moment where everything became so overwhelming Draco shut down. Sometimes Dr. Cora didn't even need to respond. Sometimes all Draco needed was someone to vent to about something and then he was good. Yet he only ever texted her professional cellphone and always understood that she did not need to respond to him. It was just nice to have that extra security net. And the practice of contacting her via phone outside of appointments had made it easier for Draco to use muggle technology. He had become rather fond of it, actually. How simple and fast and efficient texting or emailing was compared to having to hand write a message, and wrangling an owl to send it.

They said their goodbyes, Draco leaving the office and making his way home with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He took the tube home, or as close as he could get, preferring to walk the rest of the way. The cool autumn air was relaxing and smelled crisp and fresh. He couldn't wait for the air to get even colder and make way towards winter. He eagerly waited for the first snowfall. Marsh loved playing in the snow. He always had such a good laugh watching her do so. The most pressing matter at the moment was not snowfall or the approach of winter. It was what he was going to do for supper and then after that. He had to mentally prepare himself for the luncheon, being ready for anything that could happen and stealing his nerves. As easy as it would be hiding in a corner and not speaking to anyone, he highly doubted that such an action would leave a good impression.

He unlocked his front door and stepped into the home, smiling as Marsh meowed at him with pure excitement and ran over, bumping against his legs and already purring up a storm.

“Hello, Marshy.” As per their routine, he scooped Marsh up and held her close, making his way to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock. “You don't have dinner for another two hours, silly. You'll have to wait.”

Marsh didn't seem to mind, kneading his chest and leaning her face forward until her nose bumped against Draco's. He chuckled and put her on her window sill, digging through his fridge to get out what would become dinner. Fresh vegetables and rice. Simple, but easy. As he started to work, he hummed softly, watching Marsh from the corner of his eye. She watched him back, her purring getting stronger whenever Draco looked at or made kiss noises towards her.

By the time his vegetables were done cooking and his rice was in it's last stages of simmering, Draco washed his hands and got to work on Marsh's dinner. She watched him, licking her chops the closer he got to being done. He glanced up at her when he placed everything in her bowl, adding in less handmade ingredients in exchange for more dry kibble. He placed the bowl up on her window sill and scratched her back, flicking her bobtail playfully before taking his rice off of the stove and turning it with a fork.

Dinner was quiet. Marsh wasn't one for conversation and Draco had yet to understand muggle television. He much preferred to read while he ate, content with Marsh sometimes laying at his feet or in his lap. The silence was calming, providing him time to think about what he was going to do tomorrow. The luncheon was the day after, giving him with just enough time to either prepare himself mentally or allowing himself to give into the temptation to do nothing and then have a last minute panic. He could go to work or stay in the house and tidy up. The answer did not come easily, but he was sure that, by tomorrow, he would come to a conclusion. All he had to do was sleep on it.

As the night began to wear itself out into the hours of silence, Draco finished cleaning up the kitchen, showering, and getting ready for bed. Instead of falling asleep right away, however, he laid there with eyes transfixed on the ceiling fan. It was spinning round and round at a lazy pace, providing just enough air circulation to keep the upstairs from feeling stuffy and stale. Sleep often did not come as easily as Draco would have liked. He had taken a melatonin gummy right before brushing his teeth and he was eagerly waiting for it to kick in. He tried not to take anything before bed if he could help it, having been strongly against seeking the use of medications to aid him. Draco had opted for therapy, hoping that it would help ease his troubles without needing to remember to take a pill or two every morning. Not that there was anything wrong with medication, he realized, but he didn't want to exhaust an option he thought would help. It was still an option, but not one Draco felt like chasing at the moment.

Eventually, he felt the pull of sleep and glanced at his clock. 11:00 pm. Not bad. He rolled onto his side, pulling the covers up closer to his chin and forcing his body to relax. He heard Marsh's gentle purr from the foot of the bed, her paws stretching out to lightly law on his feet. A small smile crept it's way up to Draco's chest as he felt his chest almost expand in joy. It was a simple movement, Marsh probably having no idea how much it meant to him, yet here Draco was, chasing sleep with a smile. At least he had Marsh with him. She helped to keep a lot of bad thoughts away, either intentionally or not.

The next morning, Draco had opted for a short shift at his business. He went in wearing casual clothing and did some quick paperwork. Most of it was figuring out holiday bonuses, the time of year coming up fast. There were a lot of time off request which he happily granted with pay. He would cover the whole store during the holiday on his own instead, probably closing early or shutting it down entirely during the holidays themselves. Once all the paperwork was done and request approval slips handed out with a smile and well-wishes, Draco did slight shopping around the alley. Things for the store, such as cleaning supplies or new items the staff requested. A quick stop by the bookstore proved both dangerous and useful. Draco had three new books under his arms by the time he returned, his long-time staff giving him looks and playfully rolling their eyes. He could only shrug and distribute the office supplies where they belonged.

“You feeling alright, Draco?” Samantha asked, glancing up from her own book at the counter. Business was slow, especially with the newest year at Hogwarts just starting.

“Fine, little anxious, but what else is new?” He put a new ink well on the desk, along with some ink pens he had gotten from muggle stores that morning. Sometimes, Draco wished the wizarding world would catch up to things such as refillable pens and graphite pencils. But a lot of folks were stuck in their ways. He couldn't blame them, seeing as he was one of them a while ago. Change was hard, of course it was. But it was necessary sometimes, especially if it made things better. If only he could convince some older folks of that. Change wasn't scary or a bogey-man in the dark. Change was a force of good vilified by those too stiff to shift with the wind, even if it would cause less pain in the future. Oh, well.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Samantha rested her chin on her hand and stared at him from behind large, circular glasses. Draco smiled at her.

“Of course. Shoot.”

“What did the Minister want?”

“Ah.” He thought about his answer for a moment. “She invited me to a luncheon tomorrow, at the Ministry.”

“What about?”

“Policy changes involving muggle-borns, I think.”

Samantha hummed and looked down at her book. “You support good changes, right?”

“Knowing Hermi-, er, the Minister, any changes will be good. And yes. I am in full support of policy changes helping muggle-borns. About time you lot are treated fairly and right. Pure-bloods need to step down anyway. We're dying out.”

The laugh that came from Samantha made Draco smile for a brief moment. “Man, you have done a full turn around. My mom was telling me about you, from your years at Hogwarts, you know. Her sister went to school with you. Probably don't know her, she was a Ravenclaw.”

“I would ask if your mom said good things but I know it isn't.” Draco smiled again and scratched the side of his nose. “But, um... yes, I am very different than when I went to Hogwarts. I think that's, uh, an understatement, really. Different. Need a stronger adjective.”

“I'm glad to see it though. And thanks for approving the holidays. I was really hoping to see my family this year. I can be here on Christmas, though.”

“Nah, you take that time for yourself. I'll cover the store during the holidays, don't worry.”

“Even the per-holiday sales? I'm serious, man, I don't mind being here. By then, Hanukkah will be over this year. And I don't want you dealing with holiday traffic on your own.”

“If you want to come in, I'd appreciate the help, but you are not obligated to. Besides, we're an apothecary, the only traffic we'll get is from rich-ass snobs buying some fancy wine or medicine.”

Samantha tapped her book. “Oh! Right! Are we doing that thing?”

“What thing?”

“You know, the thing? You talked about it in, uh, May? The thing...” her brow furrowed and she frowned, shaking her head while staring at the ink well. “I can't remember the details but, uh.... the, uh...”

“The thing?”

“Yeah, the thing.”

Draco chuckled. “You mean the change in the stock? Yeah. I plan to roll that out towards the beginning of next year? I'm thinking more school supplies for Hogwarts and stuff. I mean, we do pretty well with medicine, potions, ingredients and Superior Red. That next shipment is coming in next week, by the way. I'm thinking of keeping about one hundred bottles in the back for the holidays and doing a sale.”

“You ever think about making a winery? I mean, your family does make Superior Red. Why not others?”

“Oh, Red was made thousands of years ago and is all in storage to age. Making a winery off of it wouldn't be worth it in the long run. Run this place into the ground before we turned a profit.”

“How about a bookstore?”

“And compete with Whizz Hard Books and the Second-Hand Bookshop? No thanks. They'd destroy me.” Draco shook his head with a small smile. “Nah. I'm fine doing this for right now. But if we stock on more ingredients for potions for schools, maybe some cauldrons?”  
“So, you don't want to compete with Whizz Hard but you will compete with Potage's Cauldrons?”

“Potage is an old family friend in the business circle. I'm not worried. Besides, we have to worry about the other apothecary opening deeper in Knockturn Alley. I'm hoping to meet with its owner and cut a deal of some sort where we trade items the other doesn't have. But we'll see.”

Samantha shook her head and looked back down to her book. “Don't be too nice, alright? If anyone gives you problems you come to me.”

“Always. Anyway, I'm gone. I'm going to take Marsh for a walk. Call if you need me, do NOT send an owl. Marsh tried to eat the last one.”

A snorting chuckle and a wave is all Draco got in response as he swooped out the door with his new books. He felt his smile warming his face in the cold air. He had almost forgotten about the luncheon tomorrow, yet the moment the thought rose in his head he forced it back down. No, not today. This was going to be a good day. He spoke it into existence when he woke up that morning and he was going to keep it going. There were better things to worry about now. The luncheon was _tomorrow_. _Today_ was taking Marsh for a walk in her new bright purple leash and vest.

–

He breathed a thin line of air into the chill autumn day and straightened his tie as he stepped off of the tube, making his way through the mid-morning crowd to the land above. The moment he arrived on the street-side, he looked up at the surrounding buildings of Whitehall. He made his way down various turns until arriving at the abandoned phone booth, stepping in and dialing M-A-G-I-C. Before too long, the floor under him began to move down, causing the world above to vanish and be replaced by the sight of countless people making their way through the large and heavily decorated Atrium, the smell of floo powder filling the air as witches and wizards arrived through the fireplaces and quickly stared their journey to the center.

Draco weaved through the crowd to a service desk, waiting patiently in line for his turn with the secretary. She glanced up at him with a brief look before giving her routine customer service smile. Draco returned one of his own, glancing around nervously for anyone he recognized. There were none.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, sir. How can I help you today?” she asked, voice dripping with the heavy desire to go home. Draco understood her pain. He, too, wished to go home.

“Thank you, um, I was invited to a luncheon at 11:30 am in Chamber 14? Draco Malfoy.”

The woman's eyebrow rose at his name and she looked back down at her book. He waited, staring off in the distance at nothing in particular. Eventually, she looked back up to him and handed him a small badge attached to a lanyard. He took it and slipped it on with a weary smile.

“There you are, Mr. Malfoy. This badge will grant you security access to the chamber rooms. Security will lead you there. Have a nice time.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” He ducked away towards the waiting security, showing them his badge and following them through the halls. As they walked, he couldn't help but tap his pocket. He still had his wand. “Um, do you need to take my wand?”

One of the guards shook her head and pointed to a small green dot on his badge. “That says you are clear to have your wand on you. Just don't get any ideas. Only use it if the Minister clears you to do so.”

“Oh.... who cleared me?”

“The Minister did. Only she can give that mark.”

Draco didn't know if he should be pleased or worried. “Thank you. Um, long shift?”

The woman breathed out a sigh with a tired and exasperated nod. Her partner did the same, shaking his head with an exhausted chuckle.

“Been so busy,” the man muttered. “So, so busy.”

Draco wet his lips. “Well, uh, I hope the rest of the day goes smoothly for you two.”

“Thanks.” The woman came to a stop by a door with large gold numbers reading 14. “And here we are. Have a nice time, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Thank you.”

They left without another word, making their way back down the hall. Draco hesitated, staring at the door with unease. He raised a hand to knock, biting his lip before rapping his knuckles along the wood and stepping back. He heard voices, then silence. A man opened the door, dressed in a nice butler suit and gave him a surprised look.

“Mr. Malfoy, thank you for joining. There was no need to knock, sir,” the man said. Draco gave a tired and almost inaudible chuckle.

“Just wanted to be polite, I guess.” Once the butler stepped aside, Draco walked into the room. He recognized almost everyone, save for some of the servers. They were placing plates on the table and getting drinks set up. No magical nonsense going on yet. He accepted a drink from the butler and stood uncomfortably by the fireplace, smelling floo powder. He could have probably arrived that way, but at the same time there was something more humbling about taking the visitor entrance. He liked his little badge, thank you.

“Draco Malfoy!”

He flinched at the voice but gave a tired smile, keeping one hand shoved in his jacket pocket and the other tightly holding his drink. “Yup,” he croaked out, “that's me.”

An older woman approached him, putting her hand-held glasses to her eyes and smiling. Madame Balreit Yaxley. One of the older members of the Yaxley family and a prominent figure head in anti-muggle circles. Her stance on muggle-borns had never been quite pleasing. At one point, Draco would have called her an ally. Yet, here and now, he was wondering what the fuck Hermione was up to with this luncheon. He glanced past the old woman and to the rest of the gathered. Balreit's husband, Rowell Yaxley. Then there was Andrew and Harold Greengrass, the twin brothers and heirs to the Greengrass company. Laura Avery and her daughter Madison Avery. Then there was him. A Malfoy. All pure-bloods. All part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. And their host, Hermione Granger. A muggle-born witch that was voted as the Minister of Magic only a few years ago. Young, bright, almost fresh out of school. He felt his stomach twist itself into knots and the alcohol in his drink not nearly enough to get him through this.

“I am pleasantly surprised to see you here, Draco,” said Balreit. She gave him a studious look and he just smiled. Forcing it as if he was forcing himself to say nice things about his father at the man's funeral. Aye, that was a rough day. Before he ever even went to therapy to help himself, back when he was trying to do it all alone. Struggling with so many internalized problems that man gave him. But he managed to smile and say absolute lies for the sake of the man's slowly dying friends. This woman, this awful woman, included. “I haven't seen you since your father's funeral. I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Yup. Thanks.” He took another sip of his drink.

“So, Draco, how do you feel about this whole luncheon?”

He thought about it. The truth was easier to remember, he reminded himself. Dr. Cora had told him that so many times. “Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I know we're here to talk about policies with muggle-borns? Or something? I got the invite a little late and haven't been able to catch up on the reading.”

The cackling laugh made his skin crawl and bile climb up his throat like a trapped rat. Yup, he wished he had not come. “Oh, Draco, you always were a funny lad!”

Draco drew in a hissing breath and took another sip of his drink, depleting it already. “Yup. That's me. The joker.”

The chit-chat had died down as Hermione entered the chamber from another door. She was wearing a nice dress-suit, a broach of a cat catching the light as she came to the table and smiled at all her guest. Draco knew that smile well. He had seen it countless times at Hogwarts when Hermione was about to own someone in class. Cut them down a few notches with her sharp tongue and sharper mind. She was not here to take prisoners. She was here to make a point and he would be damned if he was going to miss it for the world. He only hoped he could avoid her line of fire.

Draco had to note that Hermione's hair was tied up into a high ponytail with a black scrunchie. The tail of her hair was wild and bushy. He thought it made her look more respectable and more professional than anyone else had had ever seen. Already, he felt his legs moving towards the table to avoid any sort of ridicule or order. Everyone else did the same, taking their places in front of small folds of paper holding their names. Draco was at the corner on the end, away from Hermione and next to Harold Greengrass. The other head of the table was clear of anyone, putting Hermione as the sole person in attention.

Draco put the fabric napkin in his lap and looked at the silverware. It was a very standard array, less forks and knives and spoons than he was used to at such gatherings. He was thankful for it. Less silverware meant less difficult meals. He still refused to look up and make eye contact with anyone, preferring to stare down his plate, threatening it to shatter in front of him for no reason. It did no such thing, having far more dignity than that. At least one of them did, Draco thought to himself.

“Thank you for joining me. You all are gathered here as your families have tended to be the most vocal about today's topic of discussion than others. I invited members of the Weasley and Potter families, but I am afraid they were all too busy to make it.”

There was a small scoff at the mention of the two other pure-blood families. Draco raised his eyes to send a glare towards Madison Avery. She was not paying attention to him. His gaze relaxed slightly as he looked across the table, finding Hermione watching him intently. Draco quickly looked back down at his plate, taking deep breaths.

This was a horrible idea.

An awful, horrible idea.

Harold took in a breath to speak. “Ms. Granger-”

“Minister Granger, to you, Mr. Greengrass. I do have a title. Use it.” Hermione stared Harold down, eyes piercing into him sharper than any knife. Draco almost heard the man tense beside him. Harold tapped the table and took a moment.

“Minister Granger, do you mind elaborating on why you gathered all of us? The most prominent and powerful families? I mean,” Harold laughed as he spoke, “what do you hope to gain? Our vote?”

Hermione's tone changed. Draco looked up, finding nothing but contempt on her face as she sated at Harold. “Your vote doesn't matter to me, Mr. Greengrass. I want to come to an understanding. And, as the Minister of Magic, I do want to hear what everyone has to say and take it into consideration. It is important to me that I listen to everyone. No matter how much I disagree with them about certain aspects of.... policy.”

“Then do elaborate. This luncheon is already tedious,” Madison groaned out, crossing her arms like a pitiful child. Draco found himself shooting her another glare before looking back down at his plate, leaning back in his seat and trying to look relaxed and not completely, horribly, awfully uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Hermione said. She motioned for everyone to get their servings of the one-course of the day. Draco quietly thanked the man that gave him his food, looking at it curiously. It was a rather fine meal. Baked chicken with plenty of herbs and spices by the smell, serves with a side of hot, steamed vegetables. He had skipped breakfast, already finding the idea of eating more enjoyable than listening to whatever the bastards around him had to say, save for Hermione and the staff, of course.

“There will be more changes to policy involving the treatment of muggle-borns in our society. Specifically, there will be new laws prohibiting any businesses from firing or refusing to hire an individual based on their blood. Likewise, it will also be forbidden to require employees to take blood tests or provide their detailed family history to employers. And muggle-borns will get the same minimum pay as pure-bloods do in every field. Finally, muggle-borns that believe they have been treated unfairly by their employees can seek legal counsel if they believe the treatment was do to their blood.”

A fork dropped and Balreit brought her napkin to her mouth. She took a moment before speaking. “You cannot be serious, Minister. You already gutted all of the laws that were put in place to keep mudbloods in their place! They are not greater than any of us!”

Hermione smiled at her. The smile of a viper. “Like me, Mrs. Yaxley?”

The old woman looked to her husband, her face twisted in anger. Rowell Yaxley continued to eat his chicken, avoiding his wife's gaze. He looked almost as uncomfortable here as Draco did. He was, after all, married into the Yaxley family and took the name for status purposes. Draco remembered his father talking about it after a family dinner with the Yaxley over business matters. Rowell was brought in because Balreit was picky with potential suitors. Rowell seemed to fit her bill down to the penny. He was rich, handsome and powerful within certain circles. His family business became hers overnight. What an awful way to become married, Draco thought sourly to himself. Draco wondered if his father had plans to marry him off for power.

“I want to be clear,” Hermione continued, “I only wish to hear your opinions about these changes to the system. How it would affect your businesses, and perhaps we can talk about changes to make to your business so the changes do not hit as hard. I did not have to warn any of you about these changes, you understand. This is simply a formality. And, by the way, these laws simply bring muggle-borns to the same status as pure-bloods.”

Laura Madison delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “You can try to pass these laws but they will never get approved. I will see to it that my connections inside the Ministry are aware of your plot.”

“Ah, yes, those connections? They were fired for overt corruption and taking bribes.” Hermione smiled again. “And bribing Ministry officials is strictly against the law since 1808, as was decided by Artemisia Lufkin. I will let it slide for your cooperation during this luncheon, Mrs. Madison, and as long as you refrain from threatening me again.”

“Pah! I don't even have my wand!” Laura shouted.

“You do not need a wand to threaten someone, Mrs. Madison.”

Andrew Greengrass huffed. “Minister Granger! This is a rather disgusting tactic you have performed on us!”

“Giving you a free lunch and inviting you to talk about the impact upcoming changes would have on your business and to offer my assistance as Minister of Magic to your families if it causes severe damage to how things are operated?” Hermione tsked. “I don't think that will stand, Mr. Greengrass. I have done nothing wrong. If you take offense to this luncheon then you should have read the invite more carefully. I did fully say what this was about.”

“I am sure Mr. Malfoy has something to say about this madness!” Balreit roared. She looked to Draco, nostrils flaring. All eyes were on him. He looked back down to the carrots he had pushed around on his plate, having already eaten the chicken down to the bone.

“Um... I agree with Minister Granger,” he said quietly, looking up as he spoke. “We need change in the system. I can tell everyone here that a lot of these upcoming policies I've already implemented in my business and we have had no loss in profits. Actually, we've gained profits. More muggle-borns are shopping with us because I treat my employees like _people_. I don't see the problem. Muggle-borns are people, too, you know. They deserve everything pure-bloods have enjoyed for decades. Besides, there is nothing wrong with someone being muggle-born.”

The looks he got made him both proud in his statement and afraid. Yet, Hermione's look was one of pure shock and joy. She looked at the expressions of everyone else at the table, something in her eyes telling Draco that he had played his part. He hadn't gotten the script and he didn't know what play he was in, yet he did a damn good job at the delivery.

“Draco,” Balreit breathed out, face turning red. “What would your father say?”

“That's the funny thing, I don't care what my father would say,” Draco said timidly. “He isn't here. So, his opinion doesn't really matter.”

“Filthy blood-traitor,” Madison grumbled.

Draco shot her another look. He made a mental note to close off all trading with the Avery family the moment he got out of here. Cutting deals with all of them would probably be a good idea. Malfoy could set up his business to stand on its own, perhaps reach out to muggle-born businesses and make better deals with them instead. Some local shops in the area, too. He already had plans to do that, but losing some of these disgusting ties would be for the best.

The rest of the dinner went by without too much incident. There was the occasional insult as Hermione listened to their complaints without many words. She wrote down everything, mentioning at times of various programs that the Ministry could create to help ease the highly pure-blood endorsed companies into a more open and free market. It was an act of kindness that Draco saw as not only as a grace, but as a favor. Hermione didn't have to do any of this. She could have passed these new laws and screwed over every single company run by these families. Yet she was looking after those in the magical world regardless of their stance on her. She was doing her job. And she was doing it damn well.

Once the luncheon had come to a close, the pure-blood families stormed out. Hermione waited for them to leave, standing to catch Draco before he walked out the door, intent on leaving the way he came in.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” she asked. Draco blinked at her and nodded, returning to the table and sitting in his seat. She pulled Madison's seat to the blank end of the table and sat down. “I honestly did not expect anything you said back there. Are you feeling alright? You didn't say mudblood once.”

Draco bit the inside of his lip and sighed. “I'm trying not to say that word anymore. It's offensive and not right. And, um... I've been trying to get better. And change how I see things? So... I think your new policies will work out really well and I'm excited to see them implemented. And now I know which companies to never do business with again, so that's pretty great.” He looked up at her. “Why did you really bring me here? Why didn't you have the guards take my wand, too?”

The look he got was one of thoughtfulness and contemplation. There was no animosity. Only curiosity. “Like I said, I wanted to get your opinion. Every letter I sent to your home got ignored. I figured you didn't want to come until I ran into you. Then I realized you must have not gotten the letters somehow. And I didn't have the guards take your wand because I don't see you as a threat, Draco. I haven't seen you as one since I punched you.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can see that. Also, um, I don't live at the manor anymore. I have a little place in the suburbs of London? A muggle neighborhood. It's pretty nice.”

“Oh?”  
“Yeah. I guess I need to update my address with the Ministry. I must have forgotten back when I tried to go without magic for a month.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You? Tried to go without magic?”

A shrug. “Yeah. I thought... I thought if I tried to live life like a muggle I would appreciate them and therefore muggle-borns more.” He gave a small laugh. “It was really hard at first. Getting used to the tube and using a cellphone and computer for the first time. I got a library card, for the public library in my area. I also volunteer down at the humane society, where I got Marsh? I help socialize the cats. So, um, no magic. Not really. Not anymore. I still use it sometimes but I'm really trying to move away from it. Dr. Cora says it might help.” He stopped there, realizing what he had just said. He looked down, feeling shame wash over him. Although, there was nothing to be ashamed about. He knew that. But still, the thought of being judged by anyone for seeking help stung.

“Dr. Cora? Is that your physician?”

“Psychologist. She, um, has been helping me for about a year now? I went to her a few months after my father's death. Very nice woman, very sweet. Understanding, too.” The truth was easier than a lie. He repeated it to himself over and over again. Lying had gotten him into so much trouble in the past. He didn't want to go down that road again.

“Oh.”

He looked down at this hands and studied how he had interlocked his fingers. That was, by far, the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. Just his hands. Not how his heart was trying to tear through his chest and escape, or how he wanted to vanish into the floor.

“I'm.... um. Draco, that's great. I'm happy to see.... I know therapy is hard.” Her voice was softer than before. Gentle. Even though her words came out with not nearly as much confidence as they did during the luncheon, they were thoughtful in their own way. “I never would have expected that from you.”

He looked up at her then, finding a gentle sort of comfort in her eyes. He looked back down at his hands. “I didn't expect it from me, either.”

A few moments of silence passed and Hermione stood up. “It was great seeing you again, Draco. Really. Oh, um, feel free to stop by, alright? If you ever need anyone to talk to besides Dr. Cora I'd be happy to. If you can forgive me for decking you in the face.”

Another laugh escaped Draco's chest. “I deserved it. I was a real dick to you.”

Hermione pointed at him for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “You have a phone, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Let me give you my number. We can get coffee and talk about your cat. Maybe she and Crookshanks can meet!” She scribbled her number down on an unused napkin and passed it to him. Draco looked at it before putting it in his jacket pocket.

“Your cat is still alive?” Draco couldn't stop the question. “Damn. Must be ancient!”

Hermione gave her own laugh. “No, he's part kneazle. He can't move around like he used to, but he's still going.”

“Um, there's a cute little pet park a few blocks away from my neighborhood. I take Marsh there sometimes on her leash for walks. Maybe she and Crookshanks can meet there?”

“You got your cat to walk with a leash?”

“It was not easy. But I don't want her getting hurt. I also don't want her to be stuck inside. But I have bird feeders and I do not want to see a dead bird in my yard.” He shook his head at the first time he heard Marsh chirp at the birds from the kitchen window sill. He knew then he needed a leash for her at that moment.

“I'll let you contact me first, but no pressure, alright? Now that I think about it, this whole luncheon is probably going to be a topic in one of your sessions.”

“Maybe.” Draco smiled. “Um... give me some time? I just... I would really like to smooth things over, Minister Granger, but I don't want to rush myself and end up making more problems.”

“That's fine, really. Take all the time you need. There is no pressure whatsoever. Also, _you_ can call me Hermione. Although I appreciate you using the title during the luncheon. I mostly only said it to piss those bloody assholes off. Maybe now they will think twice before making my job harder than it already is.”

He snorted. “It was great to watch, I'll give you that.” He stood up and gave a small wave. “I need to go home and, uh, destress? I'll see you around, hopefully.”

Hermione gave him a brisk nod and stood with him, offering her hand. “Sure thing. Acquaintances?”

  
He looked at her hand for a moment before taking it, giving a firm handshake. “Acquaintances. Thanks for lunch. I appreciate it.” With one last small smile, Draco left the chamber and made his way down the twisting halls, asking for directions every few minutes until he found his way back out into the Atrium. From there, it didn't take long to make his way back home and collapse on the couch. He peeked an eye open to see Marsh staring at him, giving a small meow before jumping onto his back and settling down. He grunted at her meows, refusing to move until it was time to make her dinner. It had been one hell of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, 10 pages.... at least I finally got another chapter out.


	3. Chapter 3

The last two Malfoys maintained a rather good relationship, despite popular belief. Many would assume that once Draco took control of everything he would have cut contact with Narcissa. Draco did no such thing, instead maintaining a good relationship with her despite their differences. He understood her concern was that of a mother that still believed she knew best, but was coming to the understanding that she, in fact, did not. They had become different through the passage of time but still together in their own unique way as mother and child. That was why Draco was sitting with her, having a light lunch with tea in the Malfoy manor's sun room. The dark grey and black of the house did not match the exquisite garden's vibrant colors outside. Yet Narcissa insisted on keeping Lucius' sense of style around even after his death. Something to honor her late husband beyond the incredibly expensive funeral and burial site. The home did feel lighter without the man's presence constantly filling it with a poisonous bile. Draco much preferred to visit now, finding peace sitting with his mother, enjoying the view of the garden.

Marsh rested on his mother's lap, purring her worries away. Narcissa's hand glided down Marsh's fur in a rhythmic fashion, drawing out louder purrs with each passing moment. Visiting grandmother was one of Marsh's favorite activities, being spoiled in all the treats and affection that Draco sometimes could not provide her.

“How has therapy been going?” Narcissa asked, breaking the peaceful silence with a gentle touch of her voice.

“Well! Dr. Cora says I am making a lot of progress. My depression's been better, and I think the tips she's given me for my anxiety has been working pretty well.” Draco took another sip of his tea, glancing to his mother as she stared out into the garden. “Are you sure you're well?”

Narcissa laughed. It was gentle and calm. “Yes, I'm fine. Just a little lonely without your father. I really do wish you would visit more, but I know you try to come when you can. It's not a criticism, only a mother's wish.” She smiled, easing the bubble of nervousness that rose in Draco's chest. She knew him well, having taken a strong interest in why he went to therapy. It took a lot for him to disclose to her what he felt was wrong.

“How was your trip to France?”

“Lovely. I met up with the Rosier family. We had a wonderful lunch together and discussed all sorts of things. Business being one. They would love to meet with you about the apothecary.”

The Rosier family. Draco knew them well. They were a French pure-blood family, owning a few successful businesses. They also had a strong dislike of muggle-borns and were one of the few pure-blood elite families left. Much like the Malfoys before Draco took a turn towards being more accepting to muggle-borns. Something his mother originally disapproved of, but she gave Draco space to be himself. That was more than he could say about his father.

“Oh?” Draco put his tea cup down, leaning back in the chair and watching the birds flutter between the trees.

“They also have such a lovely daughter, around your age.”

Draco sighed. “Mum...”

“I'm just saying that you should meet her. She's very intelligent. A little more open to all this mudblood business than her parents.”

The word made Draco frown. Narcissa wasn't looking at him to see it, instead focusing her attention on lavishing Marsh with attention.

“I'm afraid I don't have any current plans to go to France,” said Draco with a slightly more tense voice. Narcissa looked up at him then, giving her motherly smile. She was up to something, Draco knew it. She only used that smile when she had a plan of some sort.

“The Rosier family hope to come up for dinner next week and meet with you about the business. They are bringing their daughter with them. Only to discuss business, of course. She is the heir to their fortune and companies.”

Aye. There it was. Draco sighed and said, “I will be happy to meet with them to discuss potential business opportunities but nothing else. And only if they treat their muggle-born employees better.”

“I don't believe they have any mudblood employees, son.”

“Then they better hire some and treat them well.” Draco looked at her with a soft smile. “I told you, mum, times are changing. Pure-bloods are on the way out. We have to adapt.”

Narcissa gave a nod. “I know. I know. Just... please? Dinner next week? And be on your best behavior. Oh! And wear that suit I got you.”

Draco chuckled. “Alright, alright. Next week. Just write me when and where and I'll be there. And I'll wear that ugly suit.”

“It' not ugly! It's fashion.”

“Old wizard fashion.”

“It's fashion.”

She reached across the small table and lightly tapped Draco's shoulder. He took her hand, holding it tightly before letting go and looking back out to the garden. “If you say so, mum.”

“And bring Marsh!”

“I am not bringing Marsh.”

“Why not?”

“I don't want anyone giving her the wrong impression. I'm trying to teach her morals.”

“Draco, she's a cat.”

“She needs to learn morals.”

Narcissa's laugh filled the chamber, making Draco smile as he rubbed his nose and glanced towards her once more. She held up Marsh under her arms, the loud purr still filling the room. Narcissa placed a small kiss on the tip of Marsh's nose before setting the cat back down in her lap. Draco refilled his tea cup and dropped two sugar cubes in it, catching a rabbit in his eye out in the yard. The small creature watched them before bounding away into the underbrush, leaving the outside garden feeling just a little more mystical and wild than before.

–

He got home around three, stretching as he walked back into the house before he kneeled down and released Marsh from her harness and leash. The cat shook herself off before running over to her window sill. She took her usual stance, sitting there and watching the birds with no further care in the world. Draco smiled and put her things away, sitting on the couch with a sigh. Today was Friday, a day that he often took off work for himself. Today and sometimes the weekend, depending. But he always tried to visit his mother on Friday if he was unable throughout the rest of the week. There was often an unspoken rule among his staff. You don't bother Draco on Friday unless it's an emergency of some sort. Business or personal, didn't matter.

The moment his phone buzzed, he became confused. His eyes opened and he felt as if he had almost drifted off into sleep for a moment. He fished his phone out from his pocket and glanced at who had texted him. Samantha. More text came in, one after another. He unlocked his phone and went to the messages.

**Samantha L:** Hey, don't freak out, but there's a problem at the shop.

**Samantha L:** I'm serious don't freak out

**Samantha L:** But you need to get over here right away

**Samantha L:** And by right away I mean do you still have some floo powder?

Draco narrowed his eyes and stood up, quickly texting back as he walked towards the kitchen.

**Me:** Yeah, I have some. Let me find it. What's going on?

He fished through the cabinets, finding a small container he had put a sack of floo powder in for emergencies. He took out the bag and glanced to Marsh, her eyes still focused outside. Draco sneaked away, taking a small pinch of the powder between his fingers and double checking that his wand was in his pocket. His phone buzzed again. Without a second thought he glanced at the message.

**Samantha L:** It's some guy making a fuss. He broke several bottles of SR and is harassing other customers. He's getting more violent. Please hurry. I already contacted the aurors.

Draco shoved his phone in his pocket and tossed the floo powder into the fireplace. “Malfoy Apothecary,” he said clearly, feeling the pull of magic on him as he stepped out of the apothecary's break room fire place. He took a moment to shake himself off before storming his way to the front end of the shop. He didn't reach for his wand right away, but he knew exactly how the handle was resting in his pocket. Already, words of spells were forming quickly in his mind. As he stepped into the main room, sparing a quick look towards Samantha who had her wand out, standing in front of a small group of customers, Draco's gaze went to the young man. There were shattered bottles of Superior Red at his feet, countless herbs and roots scattered about the floor with no care for their delicacy. Draco was already ringing up the numbers of damages in his mind. He let his gaze travel to the young man's face.

“Jonathon Yaxley. I don't suppose you are here to sample Superior Red or perhaps purchase some herbs, are you?” Draco asked, keeping his voice calm and fighting it every step of the way to prevent it from shaking. His heart was pounding against his ribs. One simple spell would clear up this entire mess, but Draco resisted drawing out his wand. Jonathon had his wand already out, fist gripped around it's wood and held at his waist, tip away from Draco but just in line of fire of Samantha's feet.

“No. I'm here to deliver a message,” the young Yaxley declared. Draco breathed out a thin breath of air and shrugged.

“Well, I'm afraid this isn't a post office. There's one down the street, some owls there, too. They offer you paper and quill. I'm sure you know how to write so, uh, why don't you go write a letter and send it to me? I'll get to it if it manages to miss the fire.” Draco gave a strained smile. “Now, get the fuck out of my shop.”

“My message comes from Gran herself.” Jonathon straightened up, pushing out his already frog-shaped lips further, brow furrowing in rage that just didn't quite make it to the eyes. Confusion was there instead, back slightly bent and shoulders not as firmly held as they should be. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Balreit, I presume? What is it this time? Did I not polish my shoes right?” Draco shot Jonathan a glance as he opened his large mouth to speak. It shut closed, the sound of teeth clacking. Draco took a few steps forward, putting his hands in his pockets and sizing Jonathan up. He was taller than Draco by a solid foot, but the way he held himself didn't give much in the way of power. Draco straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, offering the infamous Malfoy Stare. Disappointment, boredom, and disgust all mixed in one with the single quirk of an eyebrow and tilt of the mouth.

Jonathan tried to make himself look bigger, frowning to the point that Draco feared his mouth would fall off of his face.

“Speak, boy,” Draco hissed without changing his position. “I don't have all day for the hamster in your head to be having an aneurysm. Speak or get out without saying a word. Crawl home to your Gran with the taste of failure evident on your tongue and spit some lie that you told me good even though you didn't. Now, what's it going to be?”

He heard the back door open as the aurors approached. From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Samantha look towards them. Silence filled the room as the aurors made their way around, ready to pounce if anything went south. A Yaxley breaking the law was always a treat, the family being so heavily involved in dark magic. Aurors would jump at the chance to take one of them in.

“Gran Balreit wants me to tell you to be ready,” Jonathan spat, eyes hardly able to stare back into Draco's intense gaze. “A blood-traitor like you will be taken care of one way or another. You'll get what's coming to you.”

“Oh, I'm so scared.” Draco took another step forward until he was a few inches away from Jonathan. He tilted his head up to look more carefully at the man, voice dropping into a low growl. “I'm quivering.”

Draco stepped back and let the aurors take Jonathan out of the shop. One returned with a small notepad and floating pencil, giving him a routine look. With a heavy sigh, Draco let his shoulders drop and he looked back to Samantha.

“File out the items that were damaged and send our customers home with whatever they wanted free of charge and a gift card for next time. I'll be in the office. Come get me if you need me or have any questions.” He gave a weak smile before leading the auror to his small office, sitting down in his old chair and closing his eyes for a minute. He was exhausted.

The auror pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down, casting another spell on their notepad as the pencil began to scratch down notes. They sat there in silence, the pencil eventually coming to a halt and waiting.

“Where were you before your employee called you?” the auror asked. The pencil began to scribble once more.

“Home. I had just gotten back from lunch with my mother at around 1:34 pm. I sat down and then Samantha texted me to get over to the shop. So, I did.” Draco opened his eyes and looked at the auror. They were familiar. “Did you escort me to the luncheon? At the ministry?”

The auror nodded. “Yes, yes I did. I am Officer Enya.” She gave Draco a smile. “But you can just call me Enya, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Draco, please.” He returned the smile although it faded quickly. Enya got the hint.

“How much are we talking about in damages?”

“From what I estimated by just looking at what was on the floor? A thousand or so galleons at least. Maybe more. Superior Red is not cheap. It's also rare, so there's that. I just got a whole lot more paperwork.”

“Are you going to press charges?”

“Do I have to go to court if I do?”

Enya gave an “eh” sound and waved her hand in a noncommittal gesture. Draco rubbed his eyes.

“Maybe? I don't know. I don't really want to piss off the Yaxley family anymore.”

“It sounds like they might be planning on doing something to you.”

“When aren't they?”

Enya stared at him for a moment. “We are going to hold him for a while. See why he delivered his message this way and what's going on. Once we know something, I'll contact you with more information and then you can decide if you want to press charges. Besides, we've been meaning to get a Yaxley for a while about some questions involving the dark arts.”

“Glad I could help.” Draco leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “Um, I don't want you to think I'm rushing you, but is there anything else?”

Enya shook her head. “Nope, you're good, Draco. Expect to hear from me soon.” She stood up and motioned towards the door. “Mind if I walk around and survey the damage? Maybe talk to your employee?”

“Go for it. But, uh, if Samantha doesn't want to talk please don't push her. I don't know how stressed she is at the moment.”

The moment the auror left the room, Draco crossed his arms and laid his head down, letting out a long sigh. He was so tired.

Draco startled out of his sleep, jumping slightly. Samantha patted his shoulder, giving him a worried look and putting down a piece of paper on the desk.

“Don't you dare look at this damage report until you get some sleep. Tomorrow you can look at it. Tonight? No chance.”

He rubbed his face, feeling as if someone had filled his body with syrup. “Got it.”

“And, hey, Gwen invited you to join me and her at Hogsmead for some Halloween festivities next month. There's also a quidditch match at the school. I don't remember if it was a professional team visiting or the houses playing, but you should come.”

“When is this?”

“End of next month. This month ends in like, two days, may I remind you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle that hardly rose to his chest. “September is already over? Man, where have I been?”

Samantha shrugged.

Draco leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “I don't want to bother you two.”

“You won't bother us. I'll let you know when we want some alone time, but... I think it might be good to go to your old stomping grounds, you know? Only if you think so, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. No, I'll go. It sounds fun. Besides, I can finally meet this elusive Gwen.”

“Ha! Busy more like it. She's excited to meet you, too. Keeps calling you 'The Boss'.”

“I do not deserve that title.” Draco sat up straighter. “Oh, and before I forget um, take this, as a bonus for today.” He handed Samantha fifteen galleons. She stared at them for a moment.

“I can't take this, man.”

“Yes, you can. Consider it a bonus for having to deal with all this stuff today.” He rubbed his eyes and stood up. “How long was I out?”

Samantha put the galleons in her pocket. “Three hours. I cleaned up the store. I reorganized it, too, like you were talking about a while ago? Looks much better than before. More open. I redid price tags to what you wanted to do last month, did a stock check, so on and so forth.”

“Damn, thanks... anyway, good night, Samantha. Let me know when you get home.”

“I will. See ya, boss.”

She left the office, leaving Draco in his lonesome. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened up his messages, creating a new one with Hermione as the contact. He hesitated for a moment before finally typing.

**Me**: Hey, sorry for the wait on getting to you. Work has been busy. Want to meet at the cat park around 2? I take Marsh on Saturdays.

He left the building, locking it up and staring his walk home. By the time he was situated on the tube, his phone buzzed.

**Hermione G:** Great! I cleared my schedule and will be there. Where's it located?

**Hermione G:** Also one of my aurors came in and told me some kid destroyed your shop. Is everyone alright?

**Me:** Everyone is fine. Just some brat from the Yaxley family looking to stir up trouble. I'm pretty used to it by now, although, before they just sent letters and howlers.

**Hermione G:** That's still awful. Will talk more tomorrow. That address?

Draco texted her the address, putting his phone back in his pocket. There was so much going on, although it wasn't really too much from an outside perspective. Dinner with his mom, meeting Hermione at a pet park, and then going to Hogsmeade with Samantha and her girlfriend for a holiday trip. He closed his eyes, letting the swaying and bouncing of the tube lull him almost to sleep. He could handle it. This was good for him. He opened his eyes as his stopped neared and stood up. This was all going to be good for him. He was going to speak it into existence.

His phone buzzed once more. He took it out, continuing his walk home in the cool air. Finding peace in the silence and the dark.

**Samantha L:** Home safe. See ya tomorrow, boss. Get some sleep.

Draco smiled and quickly texted back, shoving his phone back in his pocket and looking up. He couldn't see too many stars from the light population leaking from the city, but it was still beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to get this done before the end of the month! I think my posting schedule will be one chapter per month, maybe more if I can manage. Things have been so busy between two jobs and papers.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I'm excited for this and, amazingly, still passionate about it.


	4. Chapter 4

The air was crisp, smelling of burning leaves and chimneys billowing out smoke. Fall was in full swing, leaves falling in a fine blanket on the ground and the ever chill breeze giving fair warning to the approaching winter months. The park wasn't a good place to come during winter. It was far too cold for Marsh's delicate paws and she did not like wearing little boots. Fall was perfect, though. She ran through the leaves and played as if she was a newborn kitten, staying within view of Draco the entire time. The park was empty except for them, making it a safe place for Marsh to roam. She knew the rules.

A soft chuckle found it's way from Draco throat. He was sitting on a nearby bench, watching Marsh battle the leaves only to run towards him with her fur bushed out. She soon returned to her play after only a moment of the comfort and safety of her human companion. For a moment, Draco forgot that he was expecting company. He remembered when he looked up and saw Hermione, waving at him with Crookshanks in her arms. The strange cat looked at him with a certain gaze before jumping from Hermione's arms and walking towards Marsh, a rough merow of hello creaking from his throat.

“Sorry I'm a bit late,” Hermione said with a sigh as she sat down next to Draco on the bench. She was dressed in a heavy overcoat and her old Hogwart's scarf. It had seen better days, having been roughly patched in a few areas, the ends seemingly shredded by Crookshanks' play.

“No worries. How was work today?” asked Draco, watching Marsh and Crookshanks become acquainted. Marsh approached him slowly, sniffing the air and looking to Draco to see what he was going to do. After there was no movement, she approached ever closer. It would take time. Marsh was very friendly towards other cats, much to Draco's surprise. She was brought up in the shelter around dogs and other friendly cats, so he attributed that to her general ease around other animals. He trusted Crookshanks as well, knowing the half-cat was smart enough to behave in the presence of a smaller full-cat.

“Fine. I did some quick things and then came over here. It's a very nice location. Good neighborhood.”

“I like it. Pleasant place to live.”

The cold air was a comfort and the grey clouds overhead made Draco think it would be a good day for a nice cup of tea. Perhaps when he got home he would put on an old sweater and have a quiet evening with a book. It couldn't hurt to have a day where he just relaxed.

“That guy that came to your shop, he's in processing and being questioned about some things. Dark magic related.”

“I would imagine so. The Yaxley family has been avoiding the aurors for quite some time. Speaking of, I have a meeting soon with members of the Rosier family.”

“More purebloods?”

“Mum's idea, I assure you. They want to talk business matters, although I feel it may be more than that. I've been labeled a blood traitor.”

“I heard.” Hermione cleared her throat and looked at Draco, catching his eye. He turned to face her, giving a tired smile before looking back at their cats. “Draco, um... does your mum know about...?” she trailed off, her eyes growing wide slightly before she shook her head and looked at the cats with him.

“About therapy? Yeah, she knows. She's been supportive. I'm trying to be more open about it. Apparently that will be good for me. Dr. Cora also wants to see me before I go to that dinner, and then when I get back from a short holiday trip.”

“What about the stuff with these families?”

“I'm sure mum knows. She keeps up with them. Old family friends, you know.” Draco gave a quiet chuckle. Marsh pounced on Crookshanks, earning a startled but friendly yowl as he batted her gently on the head. They tackled each other into the leaves, play wrestling as their fur rose up. Marsh, once she got on her feet, rocketed towards Draco and jumped into his lap, rubbing against his chest before jumping back down to charge at Crookshanks.

They sat in a comfortable silence, Draco smiling at the antics their cats got into in the empty pet park. A leaf fell from a tree above them, the wind picking up slightly. He glanced up at the sky and his smile faded as Marsh ran over to him, giving a loud meow.

“Is she alright?” Hermione asked, lowering her hand for Marsh to sniff her.

“Yeah, she does that when it's time to go home. And before rain.” He hooked Marsh back onto her lead and stood up. “Want to come? I was thinking about a cup of tea.”

Hermione let Crookshanks jump into her arms as she stood. She eyed Draco for a moment before smiling and giving a short nod. “Sure. That sounds lovely. Are you sure Marsh won't mind if Crookshanks is there?”

“Not at all. I'm sure she'll love the company.” Draco let Marsh lead them out of the park as they spoke, moving down the sidewalk at a pace Marsh decided for them, moving as fast as her little legs could in a quick paced jog. It wasn't too far to the house, but the rain clouds were beginning to pick up pace. By the time they made it inside, the first few drops began to fall. Draco took off Marsh's harness and ruffled her ears, letting her run into the house and to her usual spot. He motioned to the furniture as he put the kettle on.

“I have earl grey and traditional breakfast,” he said into the living room, looking over his shoulder. Hermione sat on the couch, letting Crookshanks go.

“Oh, um, earl grey is fine, with some cream if you have it?”

“Of course.”

After Draco got the cups out, he left the kettle to finish boiling. He sat on an armchair, bending down so Crookshanks could more clearly sniff his fingers. It took about a minute, but Crookshanks let out an ugly meow, butting his head against Draco's hand. With a smile, Draco scratched the cat's ears for a few moments before sitting back.

“What's um... what's your husband up to these days?” Draco asked, looking at Hermione. She cleared her throat.

“Oh, we divorced about three years after we got married. It wasn't going to work.” She gave a hesitant chuckle. “Ron and Harry are together now. They work at Hogwarts.”

“Oh! Are all of you still close? You were inseparable at school.”

“For sure. We still keep in touch. They visit when they can and I go see them when I get a chance. They are doing very well. Harry became the defense against the dark arts professor and Ron teaches quidditch and flying. You know, his sister, Ginny, is the best player on the Holyhead Harpies. Her career is really taking off.”

“That's so cool. I'm glad they are all doing well.” Draco let Crookshanks jump into his lap, scratching his fingers down the soft ginger fur.

“What about you?”

Draco took a moment to think. “I, um, I never kept in touch with anyone from Hogwarts. Figured it was better for them I stayed away. After, uh, everything I did, you know. Especially to Crabbe and Goyle. They deserved a better friend.”

“You can't blame yourself, you know.”

“No, I can. I acted that way because... anyway, it doesn't matter. I didn't stay in contact with anyone. You are actually the first person I have talked to from Hogwarts since the war.”

The kettle whistled. Draco picked Crookshanks up and moved him to his shoulders as smoothly as he did Marsh. The half-kneazle didn't argue, laying across Draco's shoulders comfortably. He poured their cups of tea, mixing in cream into both before bringing them into the living room. He handed Hermione hers with a soft smile before sitting back down, raising his tea cup so Crookshanks could move back to his lap. Marsh gave a soft harrumph and jumped up into Draco's lap as well, the two cats briefly yowling before they settled around each other.

“Oh my goodness,” Hermione chuckled. “He really likes you.”

“That's good. He hated me the first time he saw me.”

“He can tell if a person is good or not, you know.”

Draco's smile faltered a bit. He didn't say anything, instead taking a ginger sip at his tea.

Hermione cleared her throat again and looked around his home. “This seems like a nice little cottage. Very homey. I like all the plants.”

“Oh, yeah, some of those I sell at the apothecary. Rare variants used in certain medical potions. Others are just for decoration. I could help grow some for you, if you would like. For your office. It's pretty easy, and some of them are very simple to care for.”

“That would be... lovely, actually. Please, I would appreciate that.” She smiled back at Draco. It soon faded. “Draco, um... I know you may not think this but I think you are being absolutely lovely. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He shrugged. “Of course. I invited you into my home.”

“No, I mean... well, yes, that. But you are really trying. Like _really_ trying. It can't be easy, can it?”

There was a moment where he stared into his tea, feeling the weight of two cats on his lap and their warmth spreading through him. He tapped the side of his cup and raised his brows, lips squeezing together as he gave another, shorter shrug. He took in a breath and said, “It's really not. But I hated who I was and wanted to be someone that was different. Better late than never, huh?” He looked up at her with a tired gaze. “Hermione, I don't want you to worry about my current mental state. You have an entire magical community to look after. I should be the least of your concerns. I have Dr. Cora and she's working hard with me. I'm not going to put my problems on your shoulders. I appreciate the concern though, but you got enough worries.”

Hermione nodded. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep-”

“No, no, you didn't! I just don't want you to think I wanted to speak with you to talk about my issues. I just... I wanted to try and mend things over. I want to, maybe, try and be friends? If not that at least just acquaintances. I really want to try and be better than I was before, but you don't owe me anything and you especially don't owe me your time. If you ever don't want to meet for cat park days or anything you can tell me to fuck off.”

She seemed to think about it, staring at the TV that hardly got used that was mounted above the fireplace. “I will keep all that in mind, but I wouldn't mind doing this again. Maybe lunch or something when we have time? I... I'm interested in seeing this new person you want to be Draco. I'm not going to deny you a second chance.” She shrugged. “What kind of minister would I be if I didn't care about my people?”

He chuckled. “That's very fair.”

They spoke for few hours, about business, about the ministry, about their general lives. Once Draco had walked Hermione to the tube station, he watched her depart before turning and returning home in the sprinkling rain with the sound of distant thunder reaching his ears. When he closed the door, he went upstairs and took a shower, putting on one of his favorite sweaters and doing as he had intended: sitting down with a good book, Marsh enjoying having his lap all to herself. The rain on the roof was soothing and the rolling thunder provided a new dimension, helping him get lost in the words on the page. After it had gotten dark outside, Draco looked up from his book and lifted his wand. He waved it quickly, locking every door and window, closing the curtains, and listening intently to the rain. There was just water hitting the roof, the sound of a passing car at times. Quiet, peaceful. He put his wand back down and went back to his book, keeping an ear out for anything unusual. The night stretched on at a leisurely pace, in no real rush as it moved through the motions it had repeated since it's birth.

–

Draco rubbed his burning eyes, the smell of strong coffee filling his office as the steaming cup sat in front of him. It was his third one of the day, but he was still struggling to fight off the sleep. Samantha had checked on him a few times, bringing him some water and every now and then a snack. There was one point she had shook him awake, startling him from a slumber he wasn't sure he had taken.

“Are you alright?” she asked as she entered the office. Draco looked up at her, feeling as if he had almost dozed off again.

“Hm? Oh, um. No? I didn't get any sleep last night.”

“Any reason?”

“I don't think so just... didn't feel comfortable in my own home, I guess. Must just be nerves. I have that dinner soon with the Rosier family and it's honestly got me kinda worried. And all this crap with the Yaxley. Just not been feeling too good about all these rivals and problems.”

“Understandably.” Samantha pulled one of the chairs to the front of his desk and sat down. “If you want to go home I can man the store.”

“Nah, I have work I need to do.” Draco rubbed his eyes again and took a sip of his coffee. “I just need to wake up, I guess.”

Samantha eyed him. “How did your meeting with Hermione go? At the pet park?”

“Well. We talked for a bit, I invited her for tea. We'll probably meet again at the pet park before long.”

There was a brief moment where Samantha hummed, contemplating as she narrowed her eyes at Draco. “You need a vacation. Like an actual vacation. Where you don't worry about anything.”

“Me? Not worry?”

“Yeah, hard to do, I know.” She smiled tapped his desk. “Look at your calendar and make a week. Maybe after the Halloween thing.”

“The...? Oh, right, yeah. The Hogsmead visit. Um, maybe? What would I do? Where would I go?”

A shrug. “Anywhere, man. You are a Malfoy. You could afford to go anywhere.”

Draco frowned. “Not really.”

“You know what I mean. Think about it!”

He sighed. “Yeah, maybe? I always wanted to visit some places.”

Samantha seemed to contemplate something, watching him like a hawk watches a mouse. Waiting for a moment when Draco would leave the underbrush and leave himself open to an attack. Then the look was gone, replaced with something more worried.

“When was the last time you talked to your shrink?”

“Not for a bit but I have an appointment coming up tomorrow. I'm eager to talk to her about meeting Hermione. I think the cat hangout went super well and I feel a bit better, too.” He shrugged. “Oh, um, do you want me to press charges against that Yaxley bloke on your behalf? I got a letter from the Ministry that, since there were damages to the shop, I could push back against him.”

A shrug was all Draco got. “I don't really care. I'm just happy no one was hurt, you know?” Samantha stood up. “I'm going back out to the front, boss. Don't work too hard.”

“Never.”

Draco waited until she left to look back at his paperwork. Most of it was the general bills that had to be paid, as well as some applications for part-time positions. After the incident, there had been a surge in applications, most of them from muggle-borns looking for a better place to work. It made Draco feel actually happy that his apothecary was gaining attention as a good place for muggle-borns to find employment. The only issue came up with the fact that he only really needed one more worker. Samantha was open almost all the time and took her days off when Draco came in and worked the front. But if Draco wanted to expand the apothecary further and into other locations—looking towards America and France—then he would need some help.

He flipped through the stack of applications, wondering if he could offer potential jobs to everyone in those other locations, but asking them to move from everything they knew? Having to learn a new culture? He would have to say no to everyone but one individual. It was too stressful to think about.

Draco put the applications on the side of the desk, deciding to himself that was a problem for his future self.

A sigh escaped him as he pulled other paperwork towards him, flipping through the pages to decide what to work on. He had too keep himself busy today. Then, after hard work, he could express his anxieties tomorrow during his session. First thing was first, though, running his business.

–

The familiar office set Draco at ease, as much as any place could. Dr. Cora was looking at him expectantly, her clipboard in front of her and pencil at the ready. There was a lot to talk about, especially since the gathering with the Rosier family was quickly approaching. Even though it was coming, Draco felt decidedly calmer about it. There was still a hint of anxiety but he had made up his mind about everything. He was not going to merge his apothecary with any other company that refused to treat muggle-borns better and he would have to hope the Rosier heir was of a willing mind. Perhaps she would be happy to move away from the pure-blood dominance in the world and help make things better.

“So, um,” Draco began, “I met with Hermione at the pet park and it went very well. She hopes to meet up again, maybe for lunch.”

“Wonderful!” Dr. Cora exclaimed, shifting in her sit to keep her back straight. “Did meeting with her help your anxieties towards those you went to school with?”  
“Partially? She seemed super open to me trying to be better and she wants to see the person I am trying to become. Very supportive. But I don't know how others would feel. Like Harry and Ron and them. I did try and kill them a few times so... yeah, there's some bad blood I feel like.”

“You tried to kill on your father's orders who was also taking order from Voldemort, yes?”

The name said so bluntly made Draco flinch. One thing he learned quickly from Dr. Cora is that she had no time to waste on things such as superstition or dark witches and wizards. He had become fairly certain that, if Harry had not been the chosen one to defeat the Dark Lord, Dr. Cora would have ripped Voldemort and every Death Eater a new one. She had little patience for those that felt they were superior, but her methods of helping ease out those thoughts in those willing to change was gentle. Draco appreciated that about her.

“Um... yes.”

“You were a child, Draco. Your father was abusive and manipulative and only wanted to use you to further his own goals. That's all.” Dr. Cora gave him a steady look.

“Yes, but even if everyone I hurt hated me for those actions I can't blame them. They don't have to accept any explanation for behavior.”

“That's why we are here today, to help you understand that and not hate yourself for it. You are not responsible for how other people feel.” Dr. Cora jotted something down. “Draco, I'm going to be blunt with you. Is that alright?”

Draco nodded, steeling his nerves to accept any upcoming criticism.

“I'm so proud of how you have progressed. When you first came in here, you could hardly say the worlds muggle-born without a scowl and you had issues accepting any criticisms of your father or family. You couldn't see the abuse you went through and you fought through that wool over your eyes for weeks and slowly unlearned behaviors that made you upset with yourself and your own actions. But I'm afraid you are so focused on how other people perceive you and how they feel about you that you keep forgetting to ask how you feel. Are you comfortable talking to some people from your school days? Are you comfortable with the thought that you cannot be perfect? Can you accept that being satisfied with your life is more important than how other people may perceive you in their own, private lives? That's what I think we need to work on, alright? Becoming more comfortable with the you now. You can continue to change but I feel you have become so focused on that change you don't even feel comfortable in your own skin. I am so, so proud of how far you have come and seeing you grow is amazing, but I think we can start working on making you more aware that you are a person deserving of love and compassion, especially from yourself. OK?”

He felt tears prickling at his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to try and keep them from spilling over. A shaking breath escaped his lungs and he cleared his throat, trying to speak but nothing coming out. He took in another breath, his face burning and ears tingling. He took an offered tissue and dabbed his eyes, pursing his lips together. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and himself, knowing that Dr. Cora was patiently waiting, politely sitting there with only his well-being on her mind at that moment.

“Okay,” he struggled out, now nervously tearing at the tissue in his hands. “I can do that, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Cora took a small notepad from her desk and started to write on it. “Here's what I want you to do before next time: every single day, you do something that will make you happy. It doesn't have to be big. It can be something small like a cup of coffee or tea, getting a pastry from a bakery, or treating yourself to a nap. Anything at all that you want to do that will bring you a bit of joy during the day. Let it be spontaneous. I do not want you planning this in advance. If you want a cup of tea or coffee while at work from a nearby café, go get it. If you want too see your mother or play with your cat, go do it. This will be the first, small step on exercising self respect and care.”

She handed him the piece of paper. Draco took it and read over the instructions. He nodded, feeling his eyes beginning to dry slightly and the initial emotions slowly calming down. What would he want? Perhaps a walk sometimes or to go see a movie? There were a lot of options. He took in a deep breath and released it in a controlled stream out.

“I can do this. I know I can.”

“Good.” Dr. Cora put for the notepad back on the desk. “Now, tell me about this dinner with the Rosier family, how are you feeling about it? Ready for it or not so much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Been a while! Things got super busy around October and just now decided to calm down. Should be posting once a month as per usual now.


End file.
